


Getting on Board

by crisiskris



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drug Use, Friendship, Gen, It only sounds like slash, Jim's a pushy bastard, Just a whiff of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14246676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: Jim Kirk is used to getting what he wants. It's just a matter of persuasion.





	Getting on Board

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the first movie, after the destruction of the Narada and before Kirk relieves Pike as Captain of the Enterprise.

“How was your day?” Bones asked, trying for a smile. It was half-hearted at best, but Kirk laughed anyway.

“Fantastic,” he replied. “I live for heroic rescue missions and chasing mad men through space. Gonna sit down?” He gestured at the chair beside him. “Bones?” he prompted, when the older man hesitated.

“Just contemplating whether or not I’d get back up again,” Bones replied, before sinking down into the seat, sliding his food tray onto the table in front of him with a sigh.

Kirk regarded him critically. “How long have you been on?” he asked, taking a swig of his coffee.

“Since Vulcan,” Bones replied, forcing a bite of potato into his mouth.

Kirk choked, and felt immediately guilty when Bones’ head flashed up, assessing, worried. “Jesus,” he said when he’d cleared his throat. “Bones, that was two days ago.”

As if on cue, the intercom crackled to life. “Dr. McCoy to the Med Bay, Stat. Dr. McCoy to the Med Bay, Stat.” 

Bone cursed softly before rolling his shoulders back and heaving himself to his feet. “I’m the only doctor on the ship,” he told Kirk, and made his way to the door.

Kirk looked at the plate of food Bones hadn’t gotten to eat, grimacing. They had to catch Nero; it was essential to save Earth. But he hadn’t before spared a thought toward what this was doing to the crew. He hadn’t even realized that Dr. Puri was dead – not fully, anyway. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Bones was acting as the CMO, but Kirk just hadn’t put the pieces together as to what that actually implied.

He allowed himself to really feel it for a moment – he was way out of his depth. Hell, most of the people crewing this ship were wet behind the ears, except for the Vulcans… _use what you’ve got_ , Pike’s voice echoed in his head, a memory of one of the command classes he’d taken. He stood, taking one last swig of coffee. Time to eat some humble pie.

+++

“Enter.” Spock’s voice was calm. The doors swished open to reveal the half-Vulcan sitting composedly on a cushion on the floor. Kirk hesitated awkwardly at the door. “What can I do for you, Captain?” Spock asked.

“I’m interrupting,” Kirk said, taking a step backward.

“Not at all.” In one fluid motion, Spock stood, gesturing for the younger man to come in. “You have something on your mind.”

Kirk sighed. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve; to the Vulcan he must be downright transparent. “Bones,” he replied, falling into the seat that Spock had offered him. 

“Which bones?”

Kirk smiled. “No – I mean Doctor McCoy. Doctor McCoy is on my mind.”

“In what way?”

“He’s been on duty ever since our first encounter with Nero,” Kirk spilled. “He’s so exhausted he can barely eat. I don’t know how to free up time for him to sleep. He’s the only doctor we’ve got.” 

“I understand.” 

“I’m not good at scheduling, Spock. I’m asking for your help.”

Spock had moved over to his console as Kirk spoke, his fingers gliding over the buttons. “He has 128 admitted patients, 30% of whom do not appear to be stable,” Spock replied. “I am not sure that ‘free time’ is possible in a situation like this.” 

“He’s not Vulcan, Spock. He can’t work for 70 hours straight without rest. He’s going to collapse from exhaustion, and then we’ll have no doctor. Tell me what to do.”

“Perhaps he could supplement his energy through pharmaceutical intervention,” Spock mused.

Kirk jumped to his feet, angry. “You want me to drug the doctor?”

“With his consent,” Spock replied mildly.

“That’s completely unethical.”

“That may be true.” 

“And it’ll do him more harm in the long run.”

“Also true. On the other hand, it will enable him to provide his fullest concentration to his patients, fulfilling the most immediate needs of your crew.”

“That’s cold, Spock,” Kirk retorted. 

One eyebrow rose imperceptibly. “Did you not seek my advice specifically to hear an opinion that was not tainted by your personal feelings toward the doctor?” 

“No! I sought your advice because I don’t have enough command experience to figure out what to do here.”

“Ah, I see.” Spock thought for a moment. “From the perspective of a commanding officer, my advice remains the same. The good of your crew as a whole must be placed ahead of the good of any individual. It is the only way a starship can continue to operate.”

++++

In the end, Kirk and Spock decided to approach McCoy together. Spock had delicately suggested that coming from a Vulcan, the doctor might appreciate that the suggestion was based in logic; the truth was, Kirk was afraid to broach the subject by himself and he was pretty sure the science officer knew it. He wasn’t about to say anything, but he was grateful.

They caught up with Bones around hour 60. He’d managed to catch a few hours of shut-eye in between crises, but he wasn’t looking any better than the last time Kirk had seen him. McCoy listened carefully, nodding as Spock laid out his rationale. “I’d thought about it, to be frank,” he replied. “But that’s a slippery slope if there ever was one.”

Spock considered, then answered, “I am quite capable of monitoring the ship’s store of stimulants. Would you feel more comfortable if you knew you were being monitored?”

“It’s better than nothing, I guess,” Bones replied, running his hand through his hair, looking hesitant. 

“Bones,” Kirk said. “What else can we do? Tell me. I’ll make it happen.” 

“I don’t _know_ , Jim. I’m so fucking tired.”

Spock opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the buzz of the communicator on the wall. “Dr. McCoy, Captain Pike’s blood pressure is dropping. Should I increase the fludrocortisone?” 

Bones sighed, hauling himself up to punch the wall unit. “High doses are contraindicated with the neuro-regenerator,” he replied. “How’re his electrolytes?”

“I’m – I’m not sure, Doctor. You better come take a look.” The voice paused. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright, Mattie, I’ll be right in.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Well, Spock, if we’re going to do this, might as well start now. I swear, Pike’s going to be the death of me.” He walked over to the medical replicator. “Computer, Dexmethylphenidate extended release, 10 milligrams, on order of Dr. McCoy, Delta-1-1-Delta.”

“State patient name.”

“McCoy, Leonard H.” 

“Patient and prescribing physician cannot be identical.” Bones looked back at Spock and Jim and waved at the replicator invitingly.

“Computer, override prescription restriction protocol for this and all other identical prescriptions for Leonard H. McCoy, authorization Kirk-1-Apha-2.”

“Specify length of override.”

“Seven days.” Kirk replied, making up a number. He looked to Bones to confirm and the doctor just shrugged.

“Acknowledged.” There was a whirring noise, and then a loaded hypo appeared in the replicator.

“Computer, notify Commander Spock of every instance in which this prescription is filled for Leonard McCoy,” Spock added.

“Acknowledged.”

Spock turned to the doctor. “What is the maximum daily dosage, Doctor?”

“40 milligrams,” Bones replied, picking up the hypo. He turned it over in his hands a few times, sighing. “Well, here we go,” he said, then injected himself in the neck with a shudder.

“Doctor,” the comm unit chirped again. “I really think you need to take a look at Captain Pike, sir.”

“I’m on my way, Mattie,” Bones replied, rolling his shoulders back.

“Bones,” Jim murmured to his back, feeling suddenly anxious.

Bones paused briefly at the door, “It’s done now, kid,” he replied, and then he was gone.

+++

To be perfectly honest, that was the last time Bones had even crossed his mind, Jim reflected now. He was sitting in a waiting lounge at the medical facility on Starbase 11, Spock calm at his side, trying not to fidget. They had been summoned in the politest way possible by the Chief of Medicine to discuss “certain anomalous prescribing practices during your last mission”.

Until the call had come in, Jim hadn’t even considered how much of the medication Bones might have taken. There were bigger things going on, and the man was performing his job to the excellent standard that Jim took for granted as given. He hadn’t even checked with Spock to find out if he’d followed through on his promise to monitor Bones throughout the mission. He’d asked the other man when they’d met in the turbolift on the way to the Chief’s office. “Of course,” Spock had replied, in his cool tone.

Finally the receptionist beckoned them forward and ushered them into the Chief’s office. “Gentlemen, sit down, please,” the senior physician, a stocky Andorian with a name tag that read ‘Thavak Ch’Ressa, M.D’, invited. “Thank you for coming.”

“Your request for our presence seemed most adamant,” Spock answered mildly, sitting gracefully. Jim swallowed a smirk.

Ch’Ressa smiled faintly. “It was,” he replied. “I need to speak with you both about Dr. McCoy’s condition.”

That caught Jim’s attention. “Condition?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Dr. McCoy was hospitalized after the conclusion of your mission,” Ch’Ressa replied. Jim glanced at Spock, who shook his head subtly. Ch’Ressa caught the movement and continued, “We kept it quiet. I wanted to make sure I had all the facts before information about his admission spread too widely.”

“Doctor,” Spock said, cutting to the chase, “Why has Doctor McCoy been hospitalized?”

Ch’Ressa sighed. “At first I thought it was just exhaustion,” he explained. “Dr. McCoy collapsed almost immediately upon handing off the care of Captain Pike to members of my staff. But then he began experiencing cardiac symptoms – nothing too serious,” he added, holding up a hand, as Jim had opened his mouth to speak. “But it was unusual, so we did a blood work up. We found high levels of a stimulant in his system called Dexmethylphenidate.”

Jim felt his stomach sink. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

“It’s a controlled substance,” Ch’Ressa was explaining. “There wasn’t any reason why McCoy should be taking it, and yet when I checked the Enterprise medical logs, I discovered a prescription for it in his name. He was also the prescribing doctor, which is quite illegal.”

“He was the only doctor on board. He had hundreds of critical patients…” Jim started to explain, through gritted teeth. 

Ch’Ressa waved him off. “The only way that he would have been able to prescribe to himself is if a command override had been entered into the computer,” he continued.

“Since you have access to the Enterprise’s medical log, you must surely already know that such an override was entered,” Spock pointed out. Jim could have kissed the man for his directness.

“Indeed. And I know that his use was being monitored, which was a wise precaution, even if you did allow him to take more than the daily maximum dose.”

Jim’s positive feelings for Spock took a decided downturn. “You did what?” he exclaimed.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow. “I trusted Dr. McCoy’s medical judgment,” he answered. 

Ch’Ressa cut him off before Jim could retort. “What I need to know, gentlemen, is what is not on record. Self-prescribing could cost him his medical license, and his commission.”

“It wasn’t his idea,” Jim said quickly. “We came to him, not the other way around.”

“Even if it wasn’t his idea, if he consented, he’s still culpable. Did you give him a direct order to take the medication?”

Jim hesitated, glancing at Spock. “I – “ 

“Doctor,” Spock spoke up, speaking over Jim. “Acting Captain Kirk did not directly order Dr. McCoy to take the medication. However, our conversation could be classified as… coercive. I believe that given Dr. McCoy’s level of stress at the time, he could have misconstrued our suggestion as an order.”

“Indeed,” Ch’Ressa looked at Spock appraisingly. “It certainly can be hard to distinguish at times of acute crisis, especially with an inexperienced crew.”

“I probably wasn’t clear enough,” Jim agreed, pouncing on the idea.

Ch’Ressa smiled. “Are you willing to go on record to state that it is your opinion that Dr. McCoy believed he was acting on your orders?” he asked.

“Yes,” said both men together.

“Good. Can you convince him of that?”

“Ye – pardon?”

“Dr. McCoy seems quite determined to hang himself over this. Before I make my official report, I need a statement from him – a _consistent_ statement.”

 _Damn it, Bones_ , Jim thought. _Always with the ethical high ground._

“Doctor McCoy seems particularly given to emotional outbursts,” Spock said. “I understand that in many humans, emotionality increases during times of acute stress. Perhaps he is behaving irrationally as a result. I am certain that as he recovers, he will become more coherent.” Jim was back to wanting to kiss the man. “Doctor Ch’Ressa,” Spock continued, as if unaware of the goofy grin spreading across Jim’s face, “I understand that social support is often beneficial to recovery. Perhaps if we had an opportunity to visit with Dr. McCoy, we could assist him in processing the events that took place more cogently.”

“Indeed,” Ch’Ressa said again, smiling approvingly. “I’ll have my assistant show you to his room.”

+++

McCoy was staring listlessly out the window when they entered the room, but he brightened when he turned his head and saw them. “Jim!” he exclaimed. “And Spock. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well, we heard you were lollygagging around in bed, so I thought we better come smarten you up,” Jim replied jovially, pulling up a chair.

“I do not believe the Doctor is ‘lollygagging’,” Spock demurred, and Bones grinned.

“It was a joke, Spock,” he explained. “Sit down. It’s good to see you.” 

“I’m sorry we didn’t visit earlier, but we didn’t know you were here.”

Bones huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Ch’Ressa’s got a pretty tight fist,” he replied. 

“He seems supportive,” Spock offered.

Bones shrugged. “A little heavy-handed. I just needed a bit of rest. I didn’t need to be admitted.”

“He said you collapsed, Bones.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “I might have stumbled a little.” 

“And that you were having cardiac symptoms.”

“A little arrhythmia!”

“Bones.” Jim stood, leaning over his friend to look him in the eye. “Are you alright?”

Bones smiled. “I am Jim. Really.” He reached over and patted Jim’s hand. “It was just a little much for one man to handle.”

“Indeed,” Spock contributed from his seat. The three were quiet for a moment, and then Spock went for it. “Dr. Ch’Ressa asked us to speak with you about the Dexmethylphenidate prescription.”

Bones’ smile disappeared. “I’m gonna lose my license,” he said, looking away. The animation left his face, and Jim saw how pained and exhausted the man in front of him really was.

“Bones,” he said. “You won’t. I practically gave you an order to take it. You were just following orders.”

“We all know that’s not true.”

“We gave you no other alternative,” Spock pointed out.

“Splitting hairs, Spock?” Bones asked. “Isn’t that dangerously close to lying? I thought Vulcans did not lie.”

“We do not. So when I explain in my statement that I believe you were coerced into taking the medication and that you believed you were following Acting Captain Kirk’s orders, I trust that it will be understood as the truth.”

“But it’s _not_ the truth, Spock!” Bones hissed back at him vehemently. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“Did you, Doctor?” Spock replied. “You informed me that the maximum daily dosage was 40 milligrams. Yet, for the four and a half days during which you were taking the medication, you exceeded that dosage. Were you even aware of how much medication you were taking? For that matter, were you even aware of how much time had passed?”

“Well, I –” Bones hesitated.

“You had no idea how many days went by, Bones. Hell, I had no idea how many days went by. I’d be willing to bet that the only people on the Enterprise that even had a clue were the Vulcans,” Jim added.

“You made a decision in a compromised state under pressure from two superior officers,” Spock finished.

“You didn’t pressure me,” Bones argued.

“Are you certain, Doctor?" 

“I –” Something troubling flashed across Bones’ face.

Acting on a hunch, Jim asked, “Bones, do you even remember the conversation?”

“Of course,” he protested. “I remember that Captain Pike’s blood pressure dropped. Mattie was having trouble interpreting the electrolyte results. We ended up having to add potassium and magnesium supplements. I couldn’t increase his meds because the neuro-regenerator was contraindicated. She stayed up all night monitoring him. And then Taylor went south and we ended up doing an emergency splenectomy. I was really hoping the kid would be able to keep his spleen.”

“Leonard,” Spock said softly. “Those events did coincide with our conversation, but they were not related to the conversation itself. Do you remember what we discussed?”

“You overrode the command protocol so that I could self-prescribe,” he replied.

“No,” Spock said, arching an eyebrow. “ _I_ did not.”

“Well, then, Jim did. What does it matter?”

“Your cognitive state was impaired. You cannot remember what was said to you. Therefore, you cannot be certain that you did not interpret our suggestion as an order.” 

“You wouldn’t order me to do something like that, Jim.” Bones looked scandalized.

“Not ordinarily,” Jim replied. Now Bones looked betrayed. “I’m sorry, Bones. I was acting as the Captain. I had to do what was best for the ship.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty hard pill to swallow, Jim,” Bones said, his voice thick. He looked away. “I think I’d like to be alone now,” he finished, closing his eyes. 

Jim opened his mouth to respond, but stopped abruptly when Spock gently touched his arm, shaking his head. “Okay, Bones,” he said instead, “We’ll come back tomorrow. You get some rest.” He patted his friend on the arm and followed Spock out of the room.

+++

“He’s never going to forgive me,” Jim moaned once they were outside, heading back to the turbolift.

“I doubt that to be true,” Spock replied. “Dr. McCoy seemed as upset at his lack of memory as he did at the implication that you ordered him to take the medication. And while I do not know him well, from what I have observed of human friendships, they are highly resilient.”

Jim smiled. “Thank you, Spock. That was very comforting.” They entered the lift. “Lobby,” he directed.

“I was merely stating an observation,” Spock replied.

“Indeed. And may I observe that Dr. McCoy was right in his assessment that you are dangerously close to lying about this whole thing?”

“It is technically true that we presented Dr. McCoy with only one alternative.” 

“But the implication that he therefore interpreted it as an order, Spock?” Jim turned to him. “Why would you… manipulate the truth like this?”

“As I said,” Spock answered, “I do not know Dr. McCoy well. However, when he assumed command of the Medical Department, he had 128 critical patients. When we arrived at Starbase 11, all 128 were still alive, including Captain Pike. He clearly has a talent. He should not be forced to stop practicing medicine because of one extraordinary circumstance.”  The lift doors opened and they stepped out into the lobby, the sun shining brightly down on them through the skylights. “Particularly as I intend to do everything in my power to ensure such circumstances never happen again.”

It was Jim’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, really, Mister Spock? And how do you intend to do that?” 

“By recommending an increase in medical staffing for all crisis response and deep space missions. Dr. Puri had one fully trained physician and one medical trainee under her command. She rightly left Dr. McCoy in charge of triage in the Med Bay when she responded to injury reports, and took Dr. Robson with her. If she had had one more physician on her staff, she would have left two physicians in Med Bay, which would have resulted in our having two doctors alive after the attack. A schedule could then have been developed which would have allowed each of them to rest, thus eliminating the need for Dr. McCoy to take stimulants in order to function. None of this would have happened if the Enterprise had been staffed with one more physician. I intend to petition Starfleet Command to make four physicians a minimum standard staffing protocol.”

“Huh.” Jim stared at him. “You must really like Bones, Spock. That’s the most impassioned thing I’ve ever heard you say. Except of course when you were trying to wring my neck.”

The eyebrow went up again. “Indeed.”

+++

Galvanized by his new project, Spock declined to join Jim in visiting Bones the next day, electing instead to take advantage of a last minute cancellation in an Admiral’s busy schedule. So Jim was by himself when the turbolift doors swished open and the sounds of shouting filtered in. Jim glanced around. A handful of nurses were studiously ignoring the voices emanating from McCoy’s room – one an angry southern drawl and one an equally angry Andorian timbre. He slid nonchalantly through the door as the first voice exclaimed, “Just give me the damn papers so I can sign out AMA!”

“I most certainly will not!” Ch’Ressa replied, crossing his arms, eyes focused on the man in front of him. “Get back in bed.” Bones was half-dressed in pants and one shoe, holding a t-shirt and the other shoe in his hands. 

“You can’t force me to stay,” Bone replied, neither of them taking any notice of Jim at all. He shut the door delicately behind him.

“I can,” Ch”Ressa insisted. “I’ll put you on an involuntary hold if I have to!”

“It’ll never stick!”

“Won’t it? I’ve got a patient with a documented health issue related to substance misuse who is exhibiting irrational decision-making, impulsivity, and erratic emotional states. I’m pretty sure that qualifies you for a hold.”

“Damn it, man,” Bones said, his voice muffled momentarily as he yanked the shirt over his head. “I’m not erratic, I’m angry.”

“You’re throwing your career away,” Ch’Ressa countered. “Dr. McCoy, you are simply too good of a doctor for me to allow you to do this!”

“Stop saying that!” Bones pounded a fist on the bed, dropping his shoe.

That seemed like a good point on which to intervene, so Jim cleared his throat and both men whirled around to stare at him. “Good afternoon,” he said, trying for a bit of levity.

“Jim,” Bones replied, jamming his foot into his shoe. “I’m glad you’re here. You can take me home.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Ch’Ressa replied.

Jim crossed the floor to stand between them. Turning his back to Bones, he took Ch’Ressa by the arm and nudged him toward the door. “Doctor,” he said. “A moment, please.” 

Ch’Ressa looked at him suspiciously, so Jim tried to smile reassuringly.

“Fine,” the Andorian relented. “But if you leave this room, I’m calling security.” He turned on his heel, huffing, and strode out the door.

Jim blew out a puff of air, and turned back to his friend. “Well,” he said. “That was… intense.”

Bones looked surprisingly recalcitrant. “Take me home, Jim,” he said again.

“Bones, what happened?”

“Take me home or I’ll get there on my own.”

Jim crossed around the bed and grasped Bones’ arm, looking intently into his eyes. “Talk to me. I’m your friend.” Bones just looked away, fury etched into his clenched jaw. “Bones, please. I know you’re mad at me about yesterday. But please. I’m still your friend. Talk to me.”

For a moment he thought it wouldn’t work, but then Bones seemed to sort of collapse in on himself. He dropped down to lean against the bed. “I’m not mad at you, Jim. I know you’re lying to try to salvage my career.”

“What, me?” Jim replied, and was rewarded with a sad smile. Jim leaned against the bed beside him. “What can I say,” he added. “I’ve always been a rule breaker.”

“Well, I’m not. It’s not right.”

“You being responsible for hundreds of patients –“

“One hundred and twenty eight, Jim. Not hundreds.”

“Well, more than a hundred. You being solely responsible for all of those lives, that’s what wasn’t right. Bones, you did the best you could. Someone should give you a medal for that.”

“No they should not!” Bones exclaimed, and Jim was shocked to see tears in the other man’s eyes.

“My god, Bones – what the hell happened? Yesterday you were – you were not happy, sure. But you weren’t…”

“Erratic?” Bones replied, dashing a hand across his eyes.

“Did someone die?”

Bones laughed humorlessly. “No. Nothing like that. In fact, all my patients are doing very well. Captain Pike was mobile. He came to visit me. Told me he’d put my name down for a goddamned commendation.”

“I see,” Jim replied. “That’s terrible.” Bones rolled his eyes. “Remind me why it’s terrible, Bones.”

“I just – Starfleet’s not for me, okay? I think this mission has proven that.”

“Bones, I swear to god, I am really trying here. But you aren’t making any sense. You do a great job, pull everyone through – pull off a miracle – and then decide that this is somehow evidence that you shouldn’t be in Starfleet.”

“I didn’t pull off a miracle, Jim. I got high for five days. It wasn’t me.”

Pieces started clicking together. “Ah. You think you would have lost someone if you hadn’t been using the stims.”

“Of course I would have.” Bones crossed his arms and hunched over, looking haunted.

“You’re probably right,” Jim replied. Bones gave him a dirty look, but he held up a hand to keep the other man silent. “Bones, if you hadn’t taken the stims, then somewhere around day 3 you would have fallen over unconscious. And then someone would have died, because there was no doctor to take care of them. The fact that you did what you had to do is exactly _why_ you need to stay in Starfleet. I need people like you.”

“ _You_ need?”

Jim grinned. “Well yeah. You didn’t think I’d go back to being boring old Cadet Kirk now that I’ve had a chance to sit in the Captain’s chair, did you?”

Bones laughed, genuinely, and Jim felt a little knot of tension ease in his stomach. “You’re a mad man, Jim,” he said.

“You’re a mad man, _sir_ ,” Jim prompted, grinning. “It’s not official yet, but it will be. The Enterprise is mine.”

“That’s incredible.”

“And I need you there. I need _you_ , Bones.”

“Jim…”

“Just think about it. It’s going to be three weeks, maybe more, before she’s space-ready again. We have lots of time. Just promise me you’ll consider it.”

“I don’t belong in Starfleet, kid.” Bones answered, but he had a different look on his face now, more confused than despondent.

Jim smiled. “Neither do I,” he pointed out. “Cheating, provoking a superior officer, sneaking onto ships...”

“I snuck you on the ship,” Bones pointed out.

“Exactly. This isn’t about Starfleet, Bones. It’s about us. You and me, and the Enterprise.”

The older man sighed. “Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Jim patted the older man on the shoulder before grabbing him by his knees and swinging his legs up onto the bed, then pulling off his shoes.

“What the hell, Jim?”

“If you’re going to spend a few days thinking, it doesn’t really matter where you spend them,” Jim replied, pulling the blanket up over Bones’ legs and tucking it around his torso. “Might as well keep Ch’Ressa happy. They’ll never let you be my CMO with a psych notation in your record.”

“This already is a psych notation,” Bones replied.

Jim shook his head. “Ch’Ressa’s documented it as exhaustion, Bones, that’s all. The official record states that I ordered you to take the stims to keep functioning because you were the only doctor we had. There’s no black mark against you.” Bones looked away, blinking rapidly. Jim sat down on the bed. “Bones, everyone is trying to help you. Just let us.”

“I don’t deserve it,” he muttered.

“Neither do I,” Jim replied. Bones gave him that sad little smile again. “Look, just stay for three more days. You can do that – 72 little hours. Just rest a little longer, and Ch’Ressa will be happy, and then whatever you do, you’ll be doing it with a clean slate, okay?”

There was a long pause. Then Bones sighed. “Okay,” he answered, looking down. Jim grabbed him by the shoulder in a quick, one-armed hug.

“I love you like a brother,” he whispered, and then got the hell out before either of them cried.

+++

The next day, by the time Jim got there, Spock was already seated in the chair beside the bed. Jim paused at the door listening as the Vulcan explained his staffing proposal. Bones seemed engaged, offering suggestions around rotations and backfilling from Starbases. 

“Hey, Jim!” Bones called, spying him at the door. “Have you seen what Spock put together?”

“He mentioned it, yeah,” Jim replied, coming into the room, smiling. Bones smiled back. An actual smile. Jim felt something ease in his shoulder blades.

“He managed to get the attention of Admiral Knox,” Bones continued. He glanced over at the other man.

“Admiral Knox said that if we can get endorsement from Starfleet Medical, they will review it at the Policy Committee,” Spock explained.

“Wow. That’s impressive, Spock,” Jim answered genuinely.

“Leonard was providing input from a clinical perspective, to help me strengthen my proposal to the Medical Board. I present to them next Tuesday.”

“Something good’s going to come out of all this after all,” Bones replied.

Spock cocked his head. “I do not understand,” he responded. “Have not many outcomes of our mission been good? Earth did not suffer the same fate as Vulcan.”

“He wasn’t being literal, Spock,” Jim replied, and Bones grinned at him. *Grinned*. “It’s just an expression. It means he’s pleased he can contribute.”

“I will never understand the human propensity for choose idioms over clear speech,” Spock answered, his eyebrow twitching. “At any rate, I appreciate the input and I am optimistic of a positive outcome. Gentlemen.” He stood, graceful as a cat, and exited. Jim padded over to the vacant chair and plopped down.

“Well,” he said, “You two seemed like you were having a good time.”

Bones shrugged. “He’s like a terrier with a bone with that idea. Who am I to discourage him?"

“Who, indeed?”

Bones’ face took on a thoughtful expression as he studied Jim’s face. “You know,” he said, “He’d make an excellent First Officer.”

Jim scoffed. “He’d never accept. I’m leap-frogging over him for Captain.”

“He’s not human, Jim. He doesn’t have that kind of ego. He’d be good for you.”

 "Excuse me?” Jim crossed his arms in mock-anger.

“Someone needs to rein you in from time to time, if you’re going to be out there traipsing around the unknown universe in a Starship,” Bones continued, “And god knows I’m too old for the job.”

“Isn’t Spock like a hundred?”

“In Vulcan years, that makes him about your age. Whippersnappers, the both of you.”

Jim laughed. “Something tells me you’ll find the energy to drag your bones around behind us,” he replied.

Bones’ smile faded. “I don’t think so, Jim. I’ve thought about it, and… I don’t think…”

“Then stop thinking!” Jim exclaimed, irritated. He leaned up against the bed and caught the other man’s gaze. “You know it’s where you belong. You _know_ it.”

“I’m not stable enough, Jim. I’m not – I don’t have what it takes.”

“I think you proved you do,” Jim countered.

Bones pushed him away with sudden veracity, and Jim stumbled back, shocked.  “That was the drugs, man, don’t you see?” Bones cried. “Anyone can… anyone could… that was the stims. It wasn’t me.”

“Bones…”

“Just get out.” Jim hesitated, taking one step toward the bed. “Get out!” Bones yelled. Jim stared at him wordlessly.

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door, and a nurse stuck her head in, looking concerned. “Everything alright in here?” she asked.

“My friend was just leaving,” Bones replied. He turned away and shut his eyes. 

The nurse looked expectantly at Jim, who sighed. “Okay,” he replied. “I’ll be back tomorrow, though.” Bones didn’t answer. Jim stepped up to the bed and patted him on the leg; Bones was as still as a statue. The nurse held the door open as Jim left.

+++

Jim strode into the room on day two, determined to act as if nothing had happened. “Morning, Bones!” he called cheerfully, laying his coat down on one of the visitors’ chairs and shutting the door behind him. “I thought you might be getting bored, so I brought you some stuff to read. Dr. Ch’Ressa told me this was the right medical journal, and, uh, I downloaded some ridiculous old earth westerns because, well… they seemed like something you’d like.” He hauled his gifts over to the bed and dumped them on Bones’ lap.

Bones ignored him, looking over his shoulder at a spot on the wall.  Jim huffed out an impatient breath before catching himself, remembering that he’d decided to soldier on no matter what. “Don’t feel like reading?” he asked. “Okay. I’ll read to you.” He pulled over the other visitors’ chair and sat down, picking up one of the journals. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, “Neurobiological Mechanisms underlying Peptin Activation of Gonadotropin-releasing Hormone in Tribbles.”

“Tribbles don’t have gonads,” Bones replied darkly, leaning over to look at the reader.

“I just added that part for effect,” Jim replied. “Thought it would make it more interesting. Medicine’s pretty dry stuff.”

Bones huffed. “Drier than warp drive physics?” he replied.

Jim laughed.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bones smiling slightly, but as he turned his head, Bones quickly looked away. _That’s fine_ , Jim thought. _We’re not okay yet._   “Let’s try another one, shall we?” He scrolled through the journal’s contents. “Ah. “Neurobiological and Molecular Mechanisms of Sexual Motivation…. In Tribbles.”

“Stop that!” Bones replied, but he smiled openly as he snatched the journal out of Jim’s hands. They sat in silence for a moment, and just when Jim thought it was safe for him to make his apology, Bones turned to him and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry, Jim,” he said sincerely. He held Jim’s hand a moment longer and then gave it a squeeze, then let go. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Jim pulled Bones’ hand back and held it tightly. “You have _nothing_ to apologize for,” he replied, seeking out and holding Bones’ gaze for as long as the other man would let him. Bones flushed and ducked his head, nodding. “I’m pushy, Bones. I’m always going to be. I want what I want, and I’m not used to caring too much about what other people think of it.”

Bones acknowledged the truth in the statement.  “You’re going to have to modify that if you’re going to be a star ship Captain,” he replied. “You’re going to have to think about what you need instead of what you want.”

“And you think I don’t need you.”

“I think you want your friend there, Jim – but you need a CMO you can trust. Someone you can rely on.” Bones pulled his hand away and started fiddling with his blanket, his shoulders slumped.

Jim opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it abruptly. There was no point in arguing that Bones was someone he could rely on. He’d tried that already. He studied the man in front of him – looked at the broken despair on his face, the fear… the way he held himself, braced for something bad. What could be worse than what had already happened?

 _Careful, cowboy_ , he counseled himself. “Bones,” he replied at length, “Why do you think you can’t be trusted?”

Bones laughed harshly. “The stims,” he replied.

“If another doctor had been in your position and made the same choice, would you consider them untrustworthy?”

Bones sighed. “It’s not about the choice, kid,” he replied. Then he fell silent for a moment; Jim sat very still, afraid to move; Bones looked like he was fighting with himself. Finally, the older man opened his mouth again and said, so quietly that Jim almost missed it, “I liked it.”

“The stims.” Jim kept his voice quiet too.

“I felt indestructible. I felt like I could do anything. It wasn’t just about getting through. I liked it.”

“Did you take more because you wanted to keep that feeling?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It was all a blur.”  _That it was_ , Jim thought. Bones looked up at him, raw emotion on his face. “How can I practice medicine with an – an attitude like that? Medicine isn’t about the doctor.”

Jim stood up and nudged Bones over, then sat back down on the empty space in the bed. He wrapped his arms around the other man and pulled him close, holding him. “I snuck onto a starship, provoked a superior officer, and stole his command,” he murmured into Bones’ hair. “If you can forgive me, I can forgive you.”

Bones didn’t answer, but he snuck his arm around Jim’s back and squeezed.

+++

On Day 3, Jim thought he’d find Bones dressed and waiting impatiently for him to take him home, but when he walked into the room, the older man was still in bed, asleep. Spock was sitting beside him, reading quietly. “He drifted off a few minutes ago,” Spock explained, rising to his feet to meet Jim at the door so they wouldn’t disturb the other man. Jim nodded. “He told me that you asked him to join you on the Enterprise,” Spock continued.

Jim turned to the Vulcan, surprised. “What did you say?” he asked, hoping the other man hadn’t given Bones ammunition to turn him down.

“I agree with your assessment,” Spock said mildly. “Doctor McCoy would make an excellent Chief Medical Officer. He should be assigned to the best ship in the fleet.”

“Thank you,” Jim murmured.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I did not say that I agreed that you should be assigned to the Enterprise,” he pointed out.

Jim laughed. “I know,” he replied. “You have no reason to like me, Spock, and that’s fine. But I appreciate what you’ve done for McCoy. He deserves to have people like you in his corner.”

“Indeed.” He glanced over at the sleeping man. “I hope that you are successful in your endeavor to convince him of his worth.” With that, the Vulcan slipped through the door, leaving Jim alone with Bones.

He stood above the bed for a few minutes, watching his friend sleep. The dark shadows were still present under his eyes, but he was looking much better on the whole. “Bones,” he whispered, giving the other man a shake. “Hey, Bones, wake up.”

“Mmm…” Bones replied. “What time’s it?”

“Time to get the hell out of here,” Jim replied as Bones yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

“Where’s Spock?” Bones asked as he sat up, swinging his legs around and stretching.

“He just left. He said you had a good talk though.”

Bones nodded. “We did,” he admitted.

“And?”

The other man sighed. “And… okay. I’ll give it a try. With the option to bail if I think it’s not working out.”

“Deal,” Jim said, grinning.

“And just so you know, I still don’t like space flight.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not getting sucked into playing host for a bunch of random alien diplomats,” he continued grumpily.

“Minimal diplomat duty, I promise. And you can bring all the scotch you want. It’ll keep you off the pills.” Jim winked.

Bones rolled his eyes. “For Christ’s sake, Jim!” he protested, but Jim could see the joke had landed well. He helped Bones to his feet and busied himself collecting the other man’s few personal items as Bones struggled into his shoes.

“It’s going to be great, Bones,” he promised.  “Now all I need is a First Officer, and we’re good to go.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Bones replied with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

Bones raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Spock, and then shrugged. “Never mind, kid,” he said. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
